


Behind That Wall

by Writing_Doodle



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Bad First Impressions, Drinking, F/F, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Sex, Lots and Lots of Pettiness, M/M, POV Outsider, Period Typical Homophobia (Implied), Pettiness, Pre-Canon, awkward first meetings, its my personal mission to flesh out the lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-09-26 17:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9913037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing_Doodle/pseuds/Writing_Doodle
Summary: Cordelia very clearly remembered when she first met Marvin, but she never could've predicted the events that followed.And to think it all started with a piece of tupperware.-The events leading up to, during, and after Falsettos as told through the perspective of a nosy caterer with too much time on her hands.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of an experiment, because I don't know if I'll actually continue it. This is my first fic for the Falsettos fandom and I'm still really unsure about how to go about writing for it. 
> 
> We'll see where this goes. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

She accidentally made too many cookies for a kid's birthday. She didn't want to let them all go to waste, so she brought them to the person who just moved next door. 

Cordelia never saw him much, just the few times when she would actually go outside and he was coming back from work, or whatever it was he did. He didn't seem too threatening. Maybe a little surly, but nothing she couldn't handle. Who could be an ass when you're offering them cookies? 

She put on her brightest, friendliest smile as she knocked on the door. The neighbor called out muffled sounds of acknowledgment from inside and Cordelia heard the man's heavy footsteps as he rushed to get to the door. It flew open and the man already had his mouth open to speak, but it snapped shut when he noticed who was standing there. He looked disappointed, Cordelia's smile wavered slightly.

"Oh." He rubbed his face and sighed. "Sorry, I thought you were..." He ran his hand through his hair. "Anyway, what do you want?" 

Cordelia held out the tupperware of chocolate chip cookies. "I made more than I knew what to do with, so I thought I'd bring them over here. My name's Cordelia, I live next door."

The neighbor looked at the cookies with his eyebrows raised. He took them and threw her a dubious look. "Uh, thanks." He moved to go back inside, before catching himself. His movements were jerky and stilted and the bags under his eyes were prominent. Cordelia wondered if he's gotten enough sleep the past few days. He held out his hand. She barely clasped it before he drew it back and said, "Marvin. I'm Marvin." 

"Nice to meet you, Marvin." 

Marvin looked down the hall briefly, before ducking back into the apartment. "Likewise." He nodded and closed the door. Cordelia stared at the room number and tried to process the exchange that just happened. 

She shook her head and sighed. Men. At least he wasn't a total asshole, just more than a little bit frazzled. She walked back to her apartment with a dozen less cookies and some new knowledge about her neighbor to pass down to her girlfriend. Overall, she'd say that it was a pretty successful trip.

/-//-/

Days turned into a week and Cordelia never got back that tupperware. She wasn't too upset and it wasn't _that_ important, but it was still vaguely uncomfortable seeing the empty space in her drawer it would've filled. She figured that Marvin either forgot, or he didn't know he was supposed to bring it back. 

That was okay. That was fine. Cordelia knew that Marvin was home, she heard him walking around and arguing with someone earlier. She'll just go over and ask for it back. She didn't want to admit it, but she was happy to have an excuse to get out of the house. So, she walked the few feet next door and knocked. 

There was a long pause as the knock ringed out in the empty hall. Then, there was a flurry of sound coming from inside the apartment. Cursing, more arguments, hollow thumps there were almost certainly elbows and shoulders knocking into walls and furniture. Cordelia rubbed her elbow sympathetically and the door opened. 

Whatever she wanted to say completely escaped her when she saw the tall, unfamiliar man standing in the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, slightly out of breath and flushed, hair a mess, and completely shirtless. A few hickeys were blooming on his chest and neck. 

"Yeah?" He asked, voice calm and casual, like he wasn't on his way to being completely debauched. 

"Uh..." Cordelia forced her brain to reboot and backed away to save her sanity. "Hi." 

The man rose an eyebrow and smiled at her as if she were a particularly amusing pet. "Hi." He twisted around so he could look back inside. Something about him was familiar, but Cordelia didn't know what. He faced her again, looking significantly more irritated than before. "Look, if you got something to say, can you say it? I was in the middle of something." 

Cordelia felt her face heat up when she remembered the situation she was in. "Uh. Tupperware. Marvin has my tupperware." The stranger in the door laughed and Cordelia blushed more. 

"That's yours? I thought it wasn't Marvin's style." He sneered. Cordelia didn't know if he was mocking her or Marvin. The sneer dropped off his face and he said, "I'll go get it." 

"No!" Cordelia blurted. At the man's raised eyebrow she continued, "Just... go back to your... Yeah. Sorry for interrupting. Just return the tupperware later. I'm not in a hurry. Sorry, again. Bye." As soon as she squeaked out that last syllable, she rushed back to her room. The sound of the man's laughter rang in her ears. 

/-//-/

There was a knock on her door about an hour or two later. Cordelia drank the last of her glass of wine and, feeling suitably flushed, went to answer the door. 

She didn't know what she was expecting, but still she felt disappointed to see the man from earlier. Maybe she hoped that he would have enough shame to not show up after she saw him half naked. From the grin on his face, she gathered that he had no shame whatsoever. 

He held out her tupperware and shook it slightly for emphasis. "Here it is." 

"Thanks." Cordelia was a nice person, she really was, but something about that man's smile rubbed her the wrong way. A little too snide, a little too arrogant. She frowned at her own curtness and asked, either out of politeness or, if she was being honest with herself, genuine curiosity, "What's your name?" 

The man's smile fell slightly and Cordelia counted that as a victory. "Whizzer Brown." His gaze was steady, as if he was daring her to laugh or say anything. 

To her own credit, she didn't. She just smiled and said, "Nice to meet you, Whizzer. Hopefully we'll see more of each other." 

She was lying through her teeth and they both knew it. Whizzer smiled back, a bit tight. Good. Cordelia absently wondered if it was the wine that was making her vindictive, or if Whizzer just brought out the worst in people. 

"I gave you my name, it's only fair you give me yours." 

She wanted to be snippy, but she also wanted this conversation to be over. She sighed and wished she drank more wine. "Cordelia. My name's Cordelia DuBois." She couldn't help a twitch of a smile as she used her girlfriend's surname.

Whizzer nodded, more towards himself than towards her. Once again, Cordelia was struck with the sense that she knew him from somewhere. 

Before she could question him about it, he said, "Have a nice night, Cordelia." He flashed her an incredibly fake smile before walking back to Marvin's apartment. She wished that she had the chance to close her door on him. 

When Charlotte came back home from work, Cordelia was two more glasses of wine in. 

"Our new neighbor's queer." Was all she said. "Isn't that something?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all of the positive feedback, I'm gonna keep writing! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! :D

_ It’s nice to get out of the house.  _

Cordelia sighed and sunk even more into the uncomfortable park bench. It was practically frozen over and the cold cut through her clothes like they weren’t even there, but she didn’t give a damn. Not right now, anyway. Charlotte would’ve scolded her for sitting out in the cold for too long. Would’ve prattled on and on about  _ pneumonia  _ and  _ frostbite  _ and other scary words. 

Cordelia smiled faintly and wished that she was here. As much as she was thankful that Charlotte had a stable (and well paying) job, she hated the fact that it kept them separate for so many hours out of the day. She sighed again, this time just to watch her breath fog up the air. She was going to have to move eventually if she didn’t want to end up an ice sculpture. 

She got up, moved her limbs a little to warm herself up, and sat down on the next bench over. There, now she was good for another half hour or so. She occupied that time with watching the park goers. 

Kids ran around and kicked up the snow that fell the night before. People rushed to go places, faces flushed and hands shoved deep into their pockets. An artist sat a few benches away drawing the people Cordelia was watching. His gloveless hand moved stiffly and if anyone had to worry about frostbite, it was probably him. Parents with kids between them strolled along like they had no care in the world. A couple walked past her holding hands...

Cordelia felt a pang in her chest. She unconsciously curled one of her hands into a loose fist and watched them walk further and further away.  _ God, _ she wished. She tore her eyes away and stared at her feet, shaking her head slightly. Wishing didn’t do any good and the pang was an old one. Dull and livable. 

She heard the faint sound of a camera going off and, suddenly, she knew she was being watched. Her head snapped up and she didn’t even fight back a groan when she recognized the person standing in front of her.

_ Whizzer Brown _ , the condescending asshole screwing (or being screwed  _ by _ ) her next door neighbor. A slightly beat up camera was in his hands.  _ Great. _

“Hi, neighbor.” He greeted with a wry grin. He sat next to her without even asking for an okay. 

“Neighbor?” Cordelia asked haltingly, scooting away from him as much as possible. 

“Not yet, but soon enough, I guess.” He shrugged. “I’m moving in with Marv sometime in the next few weeks.” 

“Oh. That’s nice.” Cordelia couldn't bring herself to pretend to be happy about this turn of events. Whizzer didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked like he was thriving off of her discomfort. He looked over his camera with a trained ease and snapped a shot of the artist still sitting a few benches away. 

Suddenly, it hit her - where she recognized him from. She barely resisted the urge to smack herself for her own obliviousness. Instead, she just groaned. Whizzer looked at her curiously.

“Years ago, I worked at a bakery.” She said, not even bothering to provide context. “The owner hired you to take pictures of a wedding cake.” 

Whizzer tilted his head and examined her closely. Recognition slowly dawned on his features. “ _ Oh. _ ” He smiled, but it wasn't as sharp as it had been before. It was almost genuine. “You’re the one who made the awful cookies!”

Cordelia laughed, surprising both of them. “Shut up, they weren’t that bad.”

“They were  _ horrible _ . I’m surprised no one complained about food poisoning.” He was teasing, Cordelia knew that from his smile and the tone of his voice. Still, she felt the need to defend herself. 

“I got better!” 

“Yeah, you did.” He admitted, taking another picture. 

Cordelia was, momentarily, thrown. One, at the fact that he so readily dropped an opportunity to tease her further; and two, at the implication of what he said. “Wait, so…” She didn't know why this was so surprising, it wasn't like she expected Marvin to eat all those cookies himself. (The pessimistic side of her expected him to throw them away.) “You actually  _ ate _ those?”

“Yeah.” Whizzer shrugged, totally unaware of how big of a deal this was to her. Maybe he was. “They were okay. Too salty, though.” 

“Well,” Cordelia swallowed her disappointment. “I’m trying.” She laughed slightly, shaking her head. “I can't believe you guys ate those.”

“Shouldn’t you expect people to eat your food?”

“God, no. I’m aware of how bad it can be. This is… a first.”

Whizzer frowned, but didn’t say anything. Eventually he huffed and looked away. “Marvin didn’t want to waste them. He thought it was rude, after someone went through the trouble of making them.” Cordelia silently called bullshit on that. No offense to Marvin, but he didn’t look like the type of person who was considerate. Then again, Whizzer didn't either. 

Cordelia didn’t press it. Didn’t feel any reason to. She realized how stiff she’s been sitting and let herself relax. Neither of them moved off of that bench, even as the seconds and minutes passed between them. Cordelia continued people watching and Whizzer continued taking random pictures. 

It almost felt comfortable. 

/-//-/

Whizzer knocked on her door several hours later, when the sun had already set and she was anxious for Charlotte to come home. 

She couldn't quite say that she was disappointed in seeing him, though. 

“What do you want?” She asked.

Rather than answering, he held up an envelope. “I thought it was only fair that you saw the pictures I was taking in the park.”

Cordelia crossed her arms. “You ate my shitty cookies, so I have to see your shitty photos?”

“Exactly.” He smirked. “C’mon, you know you’re curious.”

“Not really.” She said, just wanting to watch the smirk get knocked off of his face. It didn’t, sadly. He was still standing there, so she sighed and moved aside. “Come on in. I’ll get the wine.”

He waltzed into the apartment like it was his own and openly appraised the furniture. Cordelia rolled her eyes as she closed the door. “Just sit at the table.” She said, waving vaguely in the direction of the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of Merlot and set it on the table just as Whizzer started taking photos out of the envelope. 

“No glasses?” He asked, amused.

She look at him directly in the eyes, completely deadpan, and he backed off. She took a victory drink and they began looking at the photos. 

Cordelia wasn't a professional photographer, so she didn’t have any knowledge to determine if they were actually good or not. She liked them, though. Especially after half of the wine was gone. They were both more than a little bit tipsy when Cordelia asked, “When did you start taking pictures?” 

“I got a camera for my Bar Mitzvah.” Whizzer drank an almost impressively large gulp. “Rest is history.” His tone made it abundantly clear that he wasn't going to say any more about the subject.

“Hm.” Cordelia examined a photo of the artist from the park. It was slightly grainy, but she could still almost see the concentration on his face. She touched it lightly, before moving on to the next one. “I started cooking when I was in high school. Home Ec, y’know? My mom was never around to show me herself.” She drank a little more. “It’s relaxing, even if I’m not that great at it.”

“You’re decent enough to get business.”

Cordelia laughed, slightly scornfully. “Never the same person twice.” Like clockwork, she took another drink. “I’m so fucking lucky that my girlfriend’s a doctor. Otherwise I’d be forced to go into another career.” She smiled, how she usually does when Charlotte crosses her mind. “Y’know, DuBois isn't really my last name. I just like pretending that it can be.” 

There was a long stretch of silence that Cordelia didn’t notice. Whizzer took the bottle from her and drank. “Girlfriend?”

Cordelia snorted derisively. “If I wasn’t a lesbian, do you really think I’d be talking to you? After interrupting you and Marvin screwing?” 

Whizzer pursed his lips. “True.” He eventually conceded, taking a drink. Afterwards he shook the wine glass slightly and laughed. “I think we just drank a whole glass of wine.”

“L’chaim.” Cordelia said dryly. 

Whizzer laughed, short and almost surprised. Quickly, it overtook him and, soon enough, they were both doubled over the table giggling like a couple of children. 

/-//-/

They were still giggling when Charlotte came home. She disposed of the empty bottle and helped Whizzer walk back to Marvin’s apartment, despite his protests.  _ (“I can do it  _ myself,  _ I'm not  _ that  _ drunk.”) _ When she walked back into her own apartment, Cordelia was half asleep at the table. 

She smiled fondly as she helped her up. “Looks like you had a fun day.”

“Mmph.” Cordelia knew she was leaning against her a little more than necessary, but the feeling of her girlfriend’s hand against her hip was enough to make her not care. 

When they were both in bed, half asleep, Cordelia mumbled against Charlotte’s shoulder, “The guy our neighbor is screwing isn’t that bad.” 

Charlotte threw her arm around Cordelia and pulled her closer. “That’s nice, hon.” 

  
“Yeah.” Cordelia yawned. “I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've gonna continue writing, but comments still help, like... a ton. I'm still incredibly nervous about this story and it'll be nice to know if people are actually enjoying it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was supposed to be more, but I got tired and I felt like it's been too long since I've updated. Hope you enjoy anyway!

“Moving day?” Cordelia asked, watching Marvin laboriously carry boxes inside his apartment. He grunted as he walked past her, but otherwise ignored her presence completely. She turned her attention to Whizzer instead, who wasn't even doing anything to move his own damn things. “He's a charmer, isn't he?” 

Whizzer laughed, but there was an edge to it. “You have no idea.” He leaned against the wall next to her. They both watched Marvin almost trip over his own feet. 

“Shouldn't you… help? It is your stuff he’s moving.” 

“He wouldn't let me, anyway.” Whizzer shrugged. “He's gotta be the _tough guy._ ” Sarcasm dripped from his voice. After a while, he added, “I’ll jump in when he breaks his back.” 

“This is… really sad.” 

“Yes, it is.”

Marvin continues bringing in boxes. Occasionally, Whizzer would walk up to him and try to help, but Marvin would always brush him off. Whizzer would then roll his eyes and move back to the wall. 

“There's no talking sense into him.” He muttered after his third attempt. 

Cordelia hummed in agreement. “Someone needs to knock him down a peg.” 

“Be my guest.” 

“Alright.” Cordelia pushed herself off the wall and followed Marvin out to his car, where there was still a few boxes waiting. “Let me help.” She said, though it came off more as a demand. 

“I'm fine.” Marvin replied automatically. 

“Bullshit.” Cordelia saw how his arms were shaking from over exertion. She examined his overall physique and concluded that this was probably the most exercise he's gotten in the last… ever. “C’mon, I have more muscle than you do.” She moved to grab the box in his arms, but he moved away. Frustrated, she snapped, “Your precious masculinity won't be threatened by accepting help.” 

It was a shot in the dark, but it did its job. Marvin froze long enough for Cordelia to take the box out of his hands and rush back into the building before he could stop her. 

He didn't protest as much when Whizzer tried to help after that. 

“Thanks.” Whizzer said, when all the unpacking was done. “Whatever you said, it shut him up a little.” 

Cordelia waved away the thanks. “Don’t mention it. Welcome to the building, officially.” 

Whizzer laughed. “I already spent so much time here, I don't feel any different.” He glanced at the door. “I guess I better get inside before Marvin starts sulking. He’s needy enough already.” 

Cordelia couldn’t, for the life of her, imagine the gruff, stern man _sulking_. She caught Whizzer smiling fondly, so she asked a question that’s been on her mind for a while, “What do you even see in him?” 

Whizzer froze at the question, but he shook himself off so quickly that Cordelia thought she imagined it. “His bank account.” He answered flatly, averting his eyes. 

Cordelia laughed, but her laughter died quickly when she realized that Whizzer wasn't laughing with her. 

_You’re joking, right?_ The question was on her tongue, but he was already waving goodbye. He ducked into his new home before Cordelia could open her mouth. 

She was left standing in the hallway, suddenly feeling very cold.

/-//-/ 

_Salty._ She thought. _It’s still too salty. Or is it? Great, now I'm second-guessing myself._

Cordelia growled lowly in frustration and barely resisted the urge to throw the cookies across the room. They need to be _perfect._ She couldn't lose another customer, her pride wouldn't allow that. She slumped over the kitchen counter in defeat. Flour got all over her arms and chest and face, but she didn't care. 

She glared at the batch of cookies. They were haunting her. _Taunting her._ She needed a second opinion. 

So, she found herself knocking on her neighbor's door. The flour on her hands left a white smudge on the wood, but she chose to ignore it. It’ll be a nice surprise for one of them later. 

Marvin was the one to answer and Cordelia barely managed to conceal her disappointment. “Is Whizzer here?” She asked, hope leaking into her words, despite her best efforts. 

Marvin laughed, sharp and bitter. “No. He's probably at some bar, getting it off with whoever buys his drinks.” 

“Oh.” Cordelia decided to ignore that too, but she did file it away for later. “Well. I guess I'll go, then.” 

Marvin examined her flour coated clothes and asked, “What did you need him for, anyway?”

“It’s nothing…” Cordelia fidgeted under Marvin’s critical eyes and tried to discreetly brush excess flour off of her hands. “I just needed a taste tester…” And, suddenly, she was struck with an idea. “Can you do it, instead?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“You.” Cordelia pointed at him for emphasis. “Taste my food. I need a second opinion on some cookies and, no offense, but you don't seem like the kind of person that would lie to spare my feelings.” 

Marvin looked torn about whether to accept the mildly backhanded compliment or not. “Thanks?” He settled. 

“ _Please._ ” Cordelia begged, clasping her flour coated hands to play up her helplessness. Marvin looked uncomfortable, but he wasn't closing his door. 

“Uh… I…” He took half a step back and Cordelia could see him trying to form an excuse to try and not look like an asshole for turning her away. She sighed and unclasped her hands. She was about to apologize, when Marvin’s face cleared and he said, “Sure.” 

Cordelia blinked. “What?” She missed something, she had to have missed something.

“Sure,” Marvin repeated, crossing his arms and looking down at his shoes. “I said ‘sure’.” 

Without thinking she threw her arms around him and hugged tightly, practically screaming in joy. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Marvin sputtered and tried to push her off, but she held on tight. She dragged him into her apartment before he could back out or get another word in. “I honestly didn't think you’d say yes!” 

She missed the hurt that briefly flashed across his face as she rushed into the kitchen. She kept babbling as she desperately tried to wipe the flour off of her hands. She had no idea what she was saying, but it didn’t really matter. It was just some verbal white noise to distract herself from the tension she felt in the air.

She gave up wiping off her hands and used a paper towel to handle the cookies instead. “Here, I have the…” The words died in her mouth as she saw Marvin standing in the middle of her living room, his back facing her. He was staring at her furniture, appraising it much like how Whizzer did when he first entered her apartment.

It was different, though. Whizzer was critical. He stared at the furniture with a smirk and a sense of pity - a shallow display of dominance in a situation he felt he didn’t have enough control in. Cordelia couldn’t see Marvin’s face, but she recognized the set of his shoulders. _Longing._

Cordelia leaned against the doorframe and allowed herself this time to reflect.

Whizzer, despite his secretiveness, was an open book. There really wasn’t anything too special about him; He was like every other obscenely pretty twink living it up in New York City. Maybe he was a little meaner, maybe he had more sharp edges. Marvin, though… He was harder to place. 

Cordelia’s only really interacted with him a few times, but those times were enough for her to gather a few words, a few adjectives. _Harsh, controlling, stiff, gruff, etc. etc._ He wasn't remarkable. He wasn’t even that particularly handsome. Too much sharpness and rigidness hidden in a soft face and a softer body. 

So _why?_

Whizzer pretty much had his pick of any gay man in New York and yet it was _Marvin_ he was coming home to. What made _him_ so special? 

_(“What do you even see in him?”_

_“His bank account.”)_

But that couldn't be _it,_ right? There were plenty of other men out there with money that were more handsome and had better temperaments. So, what else was there? What else did Marvin have?

Why did she even _care, Jesus Christ._

Cordelia wondered if it was times like this that made Whizzer want to become a photographer. You capture a moment so you could over analyze it later. Dissect the lives of people you really know nothing about. 

The moment (whatever it was) was broken when Marvin suddenly turned around and noticed her staring. Without missing a beat, she walked up to him and gave him the cookie. “Here.” She said, with no inflection in her voice.

Marvin took it, face carefully blank. Guarded. There was a shift in him, now that he knew someone was watching. He always knew how much space he took up, but now he seemed like he was trying to be bigger. Trying to be more than he was. 

Marvin ate the cookie and, thankfully, his face didn't contort into disgust, or anything. He looked politely thoughtful, before he said, “They're okay.”

Cordelia smiled, hopeful. “Okay? They’re not to salty, or anything?”

“No.” Marvin shrugged. “They’re nothing special, but they aren’t bad.”

“Thank you.” Cordelia said, genuinely. She felt relief crash over her. She glanced down at Marvin’s clothes and noted the flour covering his shirt and pants. “Sorry about that.”

Marvin looked down at his clothes with mild distaste twisting the corners of his mouth. “It’s fine.” He made an aborted gesture to the door. “Can I… Can I go, now?”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah.” Cordelia laughed, briefly. Awkward, everything was so awkward. “Nothing’s keeping you here.”

With that, Marvin nodded and left. No goodbye or anything. Cordelia thought that was fitting, though she didn't know why. 

The tension was gone from the room and she could finally breathe again.

/-//-/

“I wish I understood our neighbors.” Cordelia mumbled one night, when she was too sleepy and too content to filter her words. 

Charlotte rested her chin on the crook of her neck, pulled her close, and said, “Some people just aren’t meant to be understood.” She tilted her head and kissed her lover’s cheek. “Go to sleep.”

“Alright.” Cordelia rested her hand against the ones clasped around her waist. “Will you be there when I wake up?”

“If you wake up early enough, I might be.” Charlotte squeezed a little tighter. “I’m with you now, baby. That’s all that matters.”

Things always felt so simple at night. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy! Sorry about the shortness!

It was a fairly quiet day. 

Charlotte was at work ( _Like always,_ Cordelia thought with a small degree of bitterness), the neighbors weren't ripping each other’s throats out (Cordelia assumed they were both at work), and there weren’t any events to cater for (Which was becoming distressingly more common). 

She didn't know what she wanted to do with all her free time. Relax? Read a book? Go outside and take a walk? Drink a whole bottle of wine? _Sleep?_

The possibilities were endless. 

The possibilities fell away when she heard someone knock on the door. Cordelia sighed. It was too much to hope for. A small part of her was relieved, though. Now she didn't have any decisions to make.

Cordelia barely had the door open when Whizzer pushed himself into her apartment, looking vaguely stressed. 

“I need you to help me make my food not taste awful.” Was all he said. 

Cordelia replied, before she could even fully process what was happening, “You want _my_ help?” 

Whizzer nodded impatiently. “Yes.” 

Cordelia's brain caught up with her. She closed the door and asked, “Don't you have work? Or something?” She led him into the kitchen. 

“Don't _you?_ ” Whizzer grumbled, petulant. He crossed his arms. “I had one appointment this morning, but nothing else was booked so I closed up shop.” 

Cordelia offered him a glass of wine and he accepted it gratefully. “Why do you want my help so bad?”

“Because my food fucking sucks and I'm tired of Marvin complaining about it.” He drained his glass and then stared into it sullenly.

“Okay, but why do you want _my_ help?” 

“You're the only person I know that can actually cook a little.” Whizzer shrugged and placed his glass on the table, rubbing his face. “It's not perfect, but it's better than what I do.” 

“Well,” Corelia poured herself a glass. “What do you know how to make?” 

“I have vague memories of helping my mom make holishkes when I was… _ten._ That's all gone, now. The most I make these days is overcooked pasta and butter.”

“Hmm,” Cordelia sipped her wine. “That's not good.” 

“No shit.” Whizzer scoffed. 

“I don't know you want me to do.” Cordelia admitted. “Do you want me to show you how to cook, or do you just want advice?” 

“Advice?” Whizzer sounded unsure, like he didn't know what he was asking for either. 

Cordelia sighed and stared at the ceiling, trying to thinking of anything that could help. “You don't have any cooking experience.” 

“I _just_ said that.” He sounded annoyed again.

“Shush, let me speak. You don't have any cooking experience, but you really don't need any to be able to cook these days.” Cordelia looked back down and almost laughed at how confused Whizzer looked. “What, do you think I make all my food from scratch?” 

Whizzer hesitated. “Yes?” 

“Fuck that.” Cordelia laughed and drank a little more. “Look, so much food comes premade nowadays. Just stick it in a oven and it's done. Cooking… really isn't a _skill_. It doesn't need to be fancy.” 

“That's supposed to help?” 

“I don't know. I'm not good at advice. I think it should help.” Cordelia moved to sit at the table and motioned Whizzer to follow her. She poured him another glass. “Cooking isn't as magical as people make it out to be. It’s just measuring and mixing and heating. You can skip the measuring and mixing and just go straight to the heating. All you need to work on with that is the timing.” 

“And how am I supposed to work on that?”

“Trial and error.” She shrugged. “You mentioned making pasta? That's a good start. It's just boiling water and waiting. Canned soup is also good. Frozen vegetables even things out. It’ll be bland, but edible. Spices go a long way.” 

Whizzer stared at the table and nodded distantly. 

Cordelia leaned forward and said, “Now that I got that out of the way, what's the _real_ problem here?” 

Whizzer startled slightly. “What? Nothing.” He said, automatically. Cordelia looked unconvinced, so Whizzer looked away. “It's _nothing_.” He repeated, stressing each syllable.

“It's not 'nothing' when you're willing to listen to me talk about basic cooking.” 

“It's just… Okay, it's Marvin, alright? I'm pissed at him and staying in that apartment just reminds me of it. I tried to stay at work longer, but the darkroom gets boring real quick when you don't have anything new to develop.” 

“Why're you pissed at him?” 

Whizzer laughed bitterly. “You've met him, haven't you? He’s impossible to live with.” 

“So, why do you live with him?”

Whizzer started picking at his fingernails, avoiding the question for as long as he could. Eventually, he answered stiffly, “He offered. I'm not going to pass up the opportunity to not have to pay rent.” 

“Is that really it?”

“You sound like Marvin’s shrink.” 

Cordelia held up her hands placatingly, but she filed that tidbit away for later. The lives of her neighbor's grew more and more interesting by the day. “Sorry, I'm just trying to help.”

Whizzer didn't say anything. He stared at the (frankly _ugly_ ) wallpaper as if it held the secrets to the problems he refused to talk about. Letting the moment pass, he rose to his feet and said, “Sorry for my bitching.” 

“I've come to expect it; that's why I bring out the wine whenever you're over.” 

“And I appreciate that.” Whizzer smiled wryly. “Y’know, if I wasn't gay, I might've fallen in love with you by now.” 

“Good thing I’m a dyke.” Cordelia said mildly, following Whizzer to the door. 

“Good thing love is for children.” Whizzer replied with an equal amount of mildness. He said goodbye and walked out of the apartment without another word. 

Cordelia drained her glass and decided that she was going to sleep early that night. 

/-//-/ 

“Do they always fight like that?” Charlotte asked, looking pointedly at the wall separating their apartment from the neighbors'. 

“Yes.” Cordelia groaned. “Sometimes worse, but you're never around for that.” 

Charlotte looked regretful. “Sorry you have to deal with that, babe.” 

“Believe me, me too.” Cordelia flopped onto the couch and rested her head on Charlotte’s lap. “Honestly, they're not that bad. Whizzer’s decent company and Marvin… Well, I don't know about Marvin.” Cordelia closed her eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of Charlotte carding her fingers through her hair, rather than the fight going on next door. 

“Can't say I've ever had the pleasure of meeting him.” Charlotte noted. 

Cordelia snorted. “ _Pleasure_ … No, that's mean, isn't it? I don't want to denounce his whole character so quickly. Whizzer says he’s only in it for the money, but I _know_ there's something more. Marvin’s just… good at hiding it.” 

“That’s a backhanded compliment if I've ever heard one.” Charlotte teased. “Your southerness is showing.” 

“ _Bless their sweet little hearts._ ” Cordelia said in her best imitation of her grandmother’s Louisianan accent. The two giggled, until the argument next door swelled into a crescendo.

 _“Oh, fuck you, Marvin! At least_ I’m _not a closet case experimenting in his 40’s.”_

 _“And at least_ I _don't pretend like I'm still 18. The hair on the back of your head’s getting a little thin, isn't it?”_

Indistinct words, shouting, the sound of things being thrown. 

Cordelia sat up and rested her head on Charlotte’s shoulder. “I think they forget that they're not the only ones who live here.” 

Charlotte rubbed her back sympathetically. She squeezed her shoulder and got off the couch. She walked to the radio, turned it on, and flipped through the stations. “Let’s remind them, then.” She cranked the volume as high as the shitty speakers could handle. 

Cordelia covered her mouth to muffle her almost hysterical laughter as _Village People_ started playing on full blast. “Oh my God.” She whispered when Charlotte sat back down with a shit-eating grin on her face. “That’s _perfect_.” 

“I thought so.” Charlotte looked incredibly smug as the arguments next door suddenly quieted down. “Thank God for disco.” 

_“Thank God for disco.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's kinda boring, but things start picking up in the next one! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE shoutout to by beta worrylesswritemore for helping me get through this chapter. Thank you for all your kind words and encouragment. You're the reason this came as quickly as it did.
> 
> Sorry for leaving y'all hanging for almost a week. Hopefully the size of this update makes up for that!

It was always vaguely troubling to see kids ride the subway alone. It was crowded today - too many people crammed into such a small space. None of the seats were available and the kid was holding onto a pole, looking increasingly distressed as people bumped into him. 

Cordelia just couldn't stand it. “Hey, kid!” She called over the chaos, hoping that her voice was loud enough. Luckily, he was the only person around young enough to be called ‘kid’. His head snapped up, his large brown eyes zeroing in on her instantly. 

Cordelia got out of her seat and hastily rested her groceries on it, deterring the hungry eyes of the other passengers. She motioned for the kid to come over. Taking the hint, he did; he slowly weaved his way through disgruntled adults, flinching whenever the train rattled. When he got close enough, Cordelia swept the bags off the seat and pushed him down before it could be taken. She grabbed the railing and motioned herself so that the kid was mostly blocked from view. 

“You okay?” She asked. 

He stared at her, more than a little bewildered. “I guess.” He slipped his travel pack off his back and hugged it like it was a lifeline. 

Cordelia eyed the bag. “Where’re you heading to?”

The kid narrowed his eyes. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” The words were flat and recited, and it was obvious that the kid didn't really care about following that rule. As if to prove her right, he answered, “I'm visiting my _dad_.” 

Cordelia didn't miss the bitterness coating the last word, nor did she miss the small eye roll. _Ah._ “I see.” Was all she said and all she was going to say. She did her part, after all. There was no need to interrogate the kid and make him feel any more uncomfortable than he already was. 

“Where’re you going?” The boy asked, interrupting her train of thought. 

“What?” 

“You asked me where I was going, so I'm asking you.” He squeezed his bag a little tighter. “Where’re you going?” 

Cordelia looked down at her groceries and answered, “I'm going home.” 

“Oh.” He squeezed the bag tighter still. “That’s nice. I wish I was going home right now.” 

She gave the kid a worried look, but he seemed unaffected. He kicked his feet against the seat and watched his laces bounce. She looked away and tried not to interact with him for the rest of the ride. 

She lost herself in the rumble and noise of the subway. 

-

That should have been the end of that, but the kid got off at the same stop as she did. Telling herself it was just a coincidence, Cordelia forged ahead without dwelling on it any longer. It wasn't until she was a few blocks away from her apartment complex that she noticed that the kid still was trailing a few feet behind her. 

She turned around and demanded, “Why are you following me?” Was he lost? Clinging to her because she helped him back there? She didn't know how kids these days thought. All she knew was that she was uncomfortable having a child following her around like she was his mother. 

The kid looked startled by her question. “I'm not.” He sounded almost offended by the accusation. He took a few steps back to emphasize that point. “My dad lives near here.” 

“Where does he live?” 

He stated the address of the apartment complex and Cordelia was surprised, even though she probably shouldn't be at this point. She didn’t think her building was the type of building that housed families - families with _children_ , no less. Although, the kid did make it clear in the subway that his parents were separated; a single father wouldn't be out of place there. 

Cordelia absently wondered who his dad was, if he was someone she's seen around or even talked to. The kid _did_ look kinda familiar, if she looked closely. Something about his eyes or the set of his frown sparked brief recollection. Cordelia broke off that thought and said, “Let’s walk together, then. I live in the same building.” 

“Oh,” The kid looked just as surprised by that as Cordelia felt. “Alright. I can help you with your bags?” He voice rose, as if he was unsure if that was something he was supposed to do. 

“It's fine.” Cordelia hefted up a bag so it wouldn't slip. “You already have your backpack.” 

“Okay.” He sounded so relieved that he didn't have to help her that Cordelia found herself smiling fondly. She chided herself, _You don't know this kid. Don't get attached to him like that._

As they approached the building Cordelia couldn't help but observe, “That’s quite a walk for a kid to make by himself.” 

The kid shrugged. “I guess. Mom had to work today and she already showed me where the place was, so she figured she could trust me to walk.” 

“Hm.” Cordelia had to admit that that was a tricky situation. “That’s fair.” She let him into the building. 

She thought that that would be the end of this, _finally_ , but the kid kept trailing behind her. Her confusion increased the closer they got to her door. She thought she knew her neighbors well enough and, as far as she knew, none of them had kids. She expected the kid to walk further as she stopped at her door and dug out her keys, but he stopped with her. Right in front of Marvin and Whizzer’s door. 

_No,_ Cordelia thought, almost scandalized. _Holy shit._

The kid knocked calmly, like he wasn’t currently destroying everything she thought she knew about her favorite (the term was used loosely) neighbors. _Holy shit._ She forgot about the grocery bags sitting in front of the door, the keys hanging loosely in her hands. She stood there frozen and watched the scene unfold like it was one of those shitty soap operas on TV. 

_Oh God, her life_ was _one of those shitty soap operas._

The door opened and Whizzer greeted the kid with a jovial, “Jason!” He ruffled the boy’s hair with far more affection than Cordelia ever imagined him capable of.

The kid smiled brightly, “Hi, Whizzer!” 

For an almost hysterical moment, Cordelia wondered if _Whizzer_ was the kid’s ( Cordelia corrected herself distantly. _His name’s Jason, apparently_ ) father, but she remembered the derision he expressed on the subway. Jason was way too happy to see Whizzer for Whizzer to be his dad. That only left…

 _Marvin._

Suddenly, things made a twisted sort of sense.

The happy reunion was cut short when Whizzer noticed her standing frozen in front of her door. “Cordelia.” He greeted, eyeing her suspiciously. 

“Whizzer.” She greeted, just as stiffly. She jammed her keys into the lock, face heating up with the embarrassment of getting caught watching like a creep. “I was just bringing in groceries, don’t mind me.” 

Jason, completely oblivious to the tension filling the hall and Cordelia’s embarrassment, thought that this was the best time to say, “Thanks for helping me on the subway back there.”

Cordelia glanced back at them. Jason looked back and forth between her and Whizzer, curiosity and confusion slowly starting to color his features. Whizzer looked as suspicious as before, but now with an air of protectiveness that baffled Cordelia. She felt her face heat up further as she addressed Jason, “It wasn’t any issue.” She picked up her groceries and pushed open the door. 

Whizzer flashed her a look that unmistakably said, _‘We’ll talk about this later.’_ Cordelia nodded curtly and escaped into her apartment. 

/-//-/

Whizzer was barely over the threshold of her apartment when he started saying, “You know, you’ve always been a little nosy, but you should really work on being more discreet.”

Cordelia ignored that. “You come here so often that you might as well have your own key.” She sighed, looking up at the ceiling and praying for whoever’s up there to strike her down right now. “How the hell was I supposed to know that that kid was _yours_? Excuse me for being surprised.” 

“He’s not _mine._ ” Whizzer scoffed, but he looked uncomfortable at the insinuation. 

“Oh sorry, it was hard to tell under all that _parental-ness._ ” Cordelia smirked a little when Whizzer bristled, teasing, “I didn't know you cared about people other than yourself.”

“Fuck off.” Whizzer rolled his eyes and drifted towards her kitchen in search of anything vaguely alcoholic. He paused in the middle of pulling out a bottle of shitty beer from her fridge, face carefully blank but eyes far away. “He’s a good kid. Likes me way too much, considering…” He suddenly shut the fridge and the moment was gone. His eyes were back in the present and they were focused on the bottle in his hands. 

“Isn’t there a, what, _nine year old_ in your apartment, right now?” Cordelia asked incredulously as Whizzer started drinking. She didn’t move to stop him though. 

“Ten.” Whizzer corrected, like that made it any better. “And it’s not like I’m drinking in front of him. Not like I’m gonna get drunk either. Just… _tipsy._ ” 

“Why?”

“Stop _snooping._ ” Whizzer groaned. “Maybe I _like_ being drunk. It’s none of your business.” He took a long swig for emphasis and Cordelia barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Whizzer continued, somewhat bitterly, “He’s _Marvin’s_ kid. _Marvin_ can take care of him.” 

Cordelia beckoned him over to the couch so that he could at least drink comfortably. He rose his eyebrows questionably, but he still sat down. 

Once he was comfortable, Cordelia asked, “How’re things between you and Marvin, anyway?”

“Jesus-”

“What?” Cordelia feigned innocence. “I’m not allowed to worry about my neighbors when it sounds like they’re gonna rip each other to shreds every other day?”

Whizzer looked unconvinced.

“ _Fine._ You two are some of the only entertainment I get these days; the least y’all can do is give me the scoop.”

Whizzer snorted derisively. “ _Y’all._ ” Cordelia’s glare was withering and he held up his hands in defense. “Okay, okay. It’s the same old junk. We fight, we fuck, he occasionally buys me shit, and I occasionally cook for him.”

“How’s that going?”

“Good…” Whizzer responded after a period of silence. “ _Better_. It’s still obvious that he doesn’t like it, but at least he _eats_ it. I’m not a housewife, I keep telling him that. If he wanted one, he should've just stayed with Trina.” 

“Trina?” Cordelia asked as casually as she could, which was, if she’s being honest, not casual at all. 

Whizzer froze, like he didn’t realize he said that out loud. He looked at his beer bottle, mystified. “What’s the alcohol content of this?”

“Not enough for you to blame anything on.” Cordelia leaned forward. “Keep going.”

He shifted in his seat and avoided her eyes. “It’s not my story to tell.”

This time, _Cordelia_ scoffed. “Please, you’re not fooling anything with the moral act. Keep your own secrets as much as you’d like, but we both know you don't give a shit about spilling the beans on Marvin.” She leaned back and nudged him with her foot. “Tell meee…” 

He pushed her foot away. “God, you’re such a child.”

“Pot, kettle.” Cordelia tried to steal his beer, but he held it out of reach. “At least _I’m_ not hiding out getting drunk and leaving my _boyfriend_ to deal with his son who obviously hates him.”

“You wouldn't _have_ a boyfriend.” Whizzer muttered. “And he's not _mine_. We just screw, that's all.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” 

Whizzer frowned and drank the rest of the beer. He slumped back and stared at the ceiling. “Was he really on the subway by himself?”

“Yeah. Looked like he was about to freak out, too. I gave up my seat to get him out of the crowd.” 

Whizzer shook his head in disdain. “Jason doesn't like crowds. Crowds or loud noises. It's so obvious, but Marvin and Trina have their heads too far up their own asses to notice.” 

“And this is coming from _you._ ” 

“I never said I wasn't a hypocrite.” Whizzer sat up and Cordelia was surprised to see how _tired_ he seemed. 

“You care about him.” She realized. 

“Like I said, he's a good kid.” Whizzer sighed, rubbing his face. “Look, I'm not gonna deny that I'm an asshole. I _am_ an asshole. Doesn't mean I'm gonna be an ass to a _kid._ ” 

“Then why’re you hiding in here?” Whizzer gave her an almost pained look, so Cordelia switched gears. “Okay, who’s Trina? You keep mentioning her.” 

“Jason had to come from _somewhere_ , ‘Delia.” Whizzer explained slowly, like she was an idiot. She responded by digging her foot into his stomach. “Marvin’s wife! Trina’s his _ex_ -wife, okay? Happy?” 

Cordelia removed her foot. “That’s complicated.” 

“You're not the one living in it.” 

Cordelia couldn't help but laugh a little. “Sorry, it's just- you could've ended up with any man in this city and you happened to choose the one with the most baggage.” 

Whizzer scoffed. “I can _still_ have any man in this city. It’s not like Marvin and I are exclusive or anything.” 

“He’s still the one you're coming home to.” She pointed out. 

“He pays the rent.” He deflected flatly, twisting the empty bottle in his hands. 

Cordelia let the topic drop. “Want more beer?” She asked, nodding to the bottle. 

Whizzer looked down, only just noticing what he was doing. “God, yes.” 

“Then get it yourself.” She drawled, smiling as he huffed in mostly fake indignation. 

“You’re cruel, has anyone ever told you that?”

“No, actually. This is all for you, sweetheart.” Which wasn't a lie. Cordelia never really saw the appeal of taunts and banter until Whizzer came along. She wondered what it was about him that made him so easy to tease - if it was his aura, or attitude, or his propensity to take it in stride and tease back. She’s never had any siblings, but she figured this is what it felt like.

Whizzer sighed dramatically. “Then we’ll just have to wait for your girlfriend to come home, ‘cause I really don't want to get up.” 

“Aren’t you gonna go back to your apartment? They're probably wondering about you.”

Whizzer started fiddling with his bottle again, this time picking at the label. He caught himself and set it on the floor. “I… I don't know.” He admitted, sounding much more lost than she ever expected him to allow himself to be. “I really don't want to, not right now.”

“It’s fine. Charlotte will be home any minute now.” 

Silence lapsed between them. It started to grow almost comfortable, when Whizzer said, “We’re not friends, Cordelia.” The words were flat and stiff and she didn't believe them for a second. Whizzer continued, “You’re nice and all, but we’re just drinking buddies. That’s it.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. 

Cordelia wanted to call him out on it, but she’s already said and done enough. She allowed him to have this, just this time. “Alright.” She agreed, as amiable as she could manage. 

“Yeah?” 

She really didn't like the almost desperate hope hidden behind his words. She wanted to deny it. Wanted to say, _‘No, you idiot, we both know you care more than that and you can't keep running away from it.’_

She was tired though. Too tired to do anything more than echo, “Yeah.” 

/-//-/

Whizzer’s studio was small, but comfortable; it opened into a slightly cramped waiting room that was mostly occupied by a front desk and an overly stuffed couch. Photographs covered most of the wall space - all of them clients. It was neat and professional. It was _boring._

Cordelia flipped through an album that was sitting on the counter. Packages, offers, samples. Boring, boring, _boring._

“Do you only do family photos?” Cordelia yelled, hoping that Whizzer could hear her from wherever he was in the back. She flipped through a few more pages before Whizzer poked his head out from the door that separated the oppressively professional waiting room from the comparatively more interesting back room. At least, she hoped it was more interesting. 

Whizzer glanced at the album and the pictures that hung on the walls briefly, before answering, “Lots of money in family portraits.” 

“I thought you'd be doing something a little more _exciting._ ” 

“We can’t all be working for _National Geographic._ ” Whizzer rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, but we both know families aren't your style.” 

Whizzer shrugged and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “You’d be surprised. Lots of drama in this business.”

Cordelia rose her eyebrows. “Really?”

“You can tell a lot about a family by how they get ready for a picture. Sometimes the wife’ll flirt with me.” 

“Poor girl’s barking up the wrong tree.” Cordelia set the album down and looked through a neat stack of business cards. 

Whizzer’s smile sharpened. “Sometimes it’s the _husband_ who flirts.” 

“Oh, shit.” Cordelia huffed out a bout of surprised laughter. “That _is_ drama.” She examined a business card. “Please tell me your name isn’t _actually_ Whizzer.” 

He just smirked in a way that neither confirmed nor denied her request. Bastard. 

“Why’d you even invite me to come over, anyway?” Cordelia muttered, straightening out the business cards. _I thought we weren’t friends._ Of course, she wouldn't throw those words back at him. It’s been weeks since then and bringing it up now would be beyond petty. She didn’t understand Whizzer most days and the longer she knew him, the less she cared to. There were too many walls to climb and she could only hope that they would fall down with time. Instead, she whined, “This is _boring._ ”

He shook his head and tutted at her as if she were a petulant child. “You needed to get out of that stuffy apartment. You should be _thanking me_ for saving you from yourself.”

“I could be working on my angel food cake recipe right now.”

Whizzer grimaced. “Cordelia, I think we both know that that recipe is hopeless.” He moved back before she could reach of the counter and smack him. 

“What’re you even doing back there?”

“Developing photos.”

“Can I watch you work your magic? That’s gotta be more entertaining than waiting out here.”

Whizzer narrowed his eyes. “I don’t trust you.”

Cordelia put her hand on her chest and said with as much feeling as she could muster, “ _Wow._ ”

“Sorry.” He wasn’t sorry at all. “I have a few of my own photos I wanted to develop after I finish with the remaining ones from the client. I’ll probably forgive you more if you do something to mess _those_ up, instead of the ones I’m actually being _paid for._ ” 

Cordelia pouted. “How long would it take you to finish what you have?”

“Twenty minutes? Give or take, but mostly give, another ten?”

“And what do you suppose I should do with all that time?”

“I don’t know and I really don’t care. Look at pictures, walk around the block, take a nap. Just don’t burn the building down.”

Cordelia rolled her eyes and walked to the couch. She fell onto it dramatically. “You owe me dinner for this, Brown.”

“Whatever.” Whizzer rolled his eyes and walked out of sight. 

Cordelia huffed at the empty room and entertained the idea of actually taking a nap. The thought of falling asleep on this monster of a couch was almost terrifying - she was sure to sink into it and never be seen again. Actually, the idea was kind of appealing. No, no. She got off of the couch before it could claim her. She picked up a magazine off of a rack and thumbed through it as she paced the small area. She got bored and put it back within minutes. She groaned at her misfortune and wished that she refused Whizzer’s offer. She thought that a photography studio would be a little more interesting, but she was horribly, horribly wrong. 

She looked at the pictures on the walls. It was almost creepy, seeing all these fake-happy families looking back at her. It wasn’t anything she expected someone like _Whizzer_ to do, but she guessed he was right; there’s money in it. She wondered what the stories were behind the photos. Which families were actually happy and which ones were faking it? Which wives were desperate enough to flirt with the obviously gay photographer? 

Even looking at the pictures got boring after a while. They were all the same, no matter what angle you look at it. Same fake happy, suburban, nuclear _bullshit_. It all told the same story and it was a story Cordelia hated. She decided that she was just going to walk around the block for the next twenty minutes when something caught her eye. It was just an average family portrait among other average family portraits, but something about it jumped at her. It took a few seconds for it to click.

Was that _Marvin?_

“No way.” She mumbled as she moved closer to the picture. It was Marvin. Marvin, Jason, and… And that must be Trina. 

Marvin and Trina were sitting next to each other on a couch that was far too lovely to just be a prop ( _Spent the extra money to get the picture done at their own house, did they?_ ) and Jason was sitting cross legged on the floor between them. It was the definition of an awkward family photo, but not in the cheesy way that the title implied. It was… tense. She could almost _feel_ it even as an outside observer. The only point of contact between the couple was Marvin’s hand on Trina’s thigh. Her own hands were folded neatly in her lap. Her smile was tight, but Marvin’s was tighter. His eyes were distracted - looking at the photographer? Jason wasn't even attempting to smile. 

Cordelia backed away from the picture, almost feeling dizzy. 

Whizzer words echoed in her mind. _Sometimes it’s the_ husband _that flirts._

But that isn’t quite right, is it? Cordelia could almost see how it all unfolded and she had to laugh at it all. 

She could see Whizzer, bored out of his mind shooting his nth family portrait, deciding to something more _interesting._ She could see him harmlessly flirting with Marvin, not thinking that anything would come of it - the man’s _married_ after all, even if he _does_ stare at Whizzer a little too long. Except Marvin flirts back. Then things go from _interesting_ to _complicated._

Harmless flirting turns into sex turns into… something else? Something else that made Marvin divorce his wife and made Whizzer move in with him. How long did it last? Months? _Years?_

Cordelia looked at Trina. At her tight smile, ladylike posture, and fearful eyes. God, she looked so _scared._ Or was Cordelia reading too much into this? Putting in emotions that aren’t really there. She was beautiful, that much was clear. Trina was a very beautiful woman and, despite the tension and anxiety leaking from the photograph, they were a beautiful family. They could’ve fit right in with all of the other embodiments of the american dream that surrounded them, if only…

Well, if only Marvin wasn’t _queer._

And it was obvious, in the picture. It was obvious that _something_ wasn’t there between Marvin and Trina. There wasn't any love, fake or otherwise. As close as they sat together, they might as well have been standing on opposite sides of the room. Trina was dutifully staring at the camera, but Marvin only had eyes for the photographer. 

Was _this_ why Whizzer wanted her to come over to his studio? Was he hoping that she’d stumble across this picture? Hoping that she’d put the pieces together so that he wouldn't have to explain anything? 

Or was she still reading too much into this? She didn’t know. Everything was so clear and so muddied at the same time. Whatever the case was, her thoughts were derailed when Whizzer came back into the room.

“Alright, I’m done. I knew you’d survive.” He taunted, with a relatively good natured grin on his face. It faltered slightly at the blank look Cordelia gave him. “What is it?”

Cordelia gestured to the picture. “You might wanna take this down. It’s a little inappropriate, don’t you think?” 

Whizzer barely glanced at the picture before his face matched hers. Carefully blank. “You know, I was thinking the same thing.” His voice was as blank as his face. “Now, come on. You wanna see how pictures get developed or not?” He didn’t give her time to answer before he turned around and walked back to where he came from. 

Cordelia quickly followed, more than happy to get away from the picture and all of the implications it held. “Of course.”

Whizzer held open the door to the darkroom. As Cordelia approached, their eyes met and an understanding passed between them. They weren't going to talk about it. Whatever scenario Cordelia came up with, it wasn’t going to be discussed. Cordelia nodded minutely to show that she understood. Whizzer’s lips twitched briefly into a barely there, but still grateful smile. 

He let the door swing shut and Cordelia was relieved at the darkness that quickly enveloped the two of them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, again, for the long wait! Like the last chapter, this one is also longer to make up for it. Hope you enjoy!

Cordelia eyed the two men sitting in her living room with an air of vague distrust. She leaned closer to Charlotte and mumbled, “Why’re they here again?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes and poured the drinks. “You can’t keep hogging the neighbors for yourself.”

“I’d hardly say I’m _hogging_ them.” Cordelia scoffed, still watching the living room. Whizzer was spread out on the couch with the ease of someone who felt completely at home. Marvin was sitting on the edge, brushing off Whizzer’s attempts to get him to loosen up. “It’s not _my_ fault that Whizzer Brown is a menace who doesn't let me relax.”

“Please, you know you love it.”

“I do _not._ ” Cordelia would rather eat her own cooking than admit that she was starting to genuinely enjoy Whizzer’s company. She wrapped her arms loosely around Charlotte’s waist and said, “It’s just that we could be _alone._ ” She rested her chin on her shoulder and smiled when Charlotte tilted her head away slightly. She nosed Charlotte’s neck and whispered, “We could be having some _fun._ ”

At that point, Charlotte pushed Cordelia away, laughing, “I’ll keep that in mind for later. Now,” She handed her two glasses of wine. “Why don’t you give these to the gentlemen waiting in our living room.”

Cordelia pouted, but took the glasses anyway. As soon as she stepped into the room, Whizzer caught the look on her face and laughed. “Aw, did you get rejected?”

Cordelia would’ve poured the wine on him if it didn’t run the risk of staining her couch or her carpet. “What makes you say that?” She ignored his outstretched hand and gave the first glass to Marvin instead. 

Whizzer’s smirk didn’t even drop. “Marvin gets the same _wounded puppy_ look.” Marvin sputtered and Whizzer laughed even harder, until Marvin jammed his fingers into his side. “Fucking– _ow_. Quit it!” 

He nearly pushed Marvin off of the couch when Charlotte walked into the room announcing, “If you spill a drop of that wine you’ll never be able to walk again.” 

Whizzer froze and retracted his legs. “Isn't it, like, illegal or something for a doctor to injure someone? It should be.” 

“We’re not in a hospital; anything’s fair game out in the real world.” 

“Including you paralyzing me for staining your couch.” 

Charlotte handed him his glass of wine and smiled sweetly. “ _Especially_ that.” 

Cordelia could barely keep in her laughter at how gingerly Whizzer carried his glass after that. Charlotte looked stern and intimidating, but she didn't have a single violent bone in her body. She’d never hurt anyone, much less someone she was acquainted with. Still, if her empty threats kept Whizzer (or Marvin) in check, then Cordelia wouldn't say anything. She let herself be pulled to the adjacent couch and cuddled as close to her girlfriend as the glass of wine in her hands would allow her to. 

They drank in silence for a few minutes after that. Whizzer slowly managed to convince Marvin to loosen up and sit closer to him. 

“Why are even here?” Marvin asked, staring into his glass of wine. 

“I thought, since we’re neighbors and all, we should get to know each other.” Charlotte explained. “I already have to escort Whizzer’s drunk ass back to your apartment every week.” 

“I don't get _that_ drunk.”

“So,” Charlotte steered back the conversation, giving Whizzer a significant look. She appraised the couple. “How did you two meet?” 

Marvin almost choked on his wine, but Whizzer looked almost eerily calm. Cordelia opened her mouth to deflect the question when Whizzer flatly answered, “Work.”

“More like a bar after work.” Marvin grumbled, once he recovered. 

“I took him home and gave him a blowjob and he's been fixated on me ever since.” 

“How romantic.” Charlotte said with a wry grin. Cordelia drank her wine and said nothing. 

Whizzer laughed humorlessly. “ _Believe me_ , that was just the beginning of our romanticism. Isn't that right, _Marvin?_ ” He nudged Marvin with his foot, jostling him (and the wine) alarmingly. In response Marvin gave a noncommittal grunt. 

Cordelia kept drinking her wine. 

“So, how did _you two_ meet?” Whizzer asked casually. “I bet your story’s more exciting than ours.” 

“Oh, I doubt that.” Cordelia said, eyeing Whizzer dubiously. Whizzer made his face look as innocent as possible; Marvin kept staring into his wine glass. “I worked in a bakery, Charlotte bought sweets every other week for the hospital staff.”

“Eventually I’d go in every week. Then every day. Then sometimes even twice a day.” 

“I eventually just took a chance and gave her my number.” Cordelia looked at Charlotte with a fond smile. “A few awkward dates later and here we are now: a solid eight years.” 

Charlotte returned the smile and leant forward. They kissed for a few seconds before Cordelia pulled away. When she turned to face Whizzer and Marvin again her smile was smug. 

Whizzer made an overdramatic gagging motion. “You two are _disgustingly_ sweet and wholesome.” 

Marvin drained his glass. “This is a waste of time.” 

“As much as I _loathe_ to say it - I agree.” Whizzer kicked Marvin again when he started preening. “This is too stiff and formal, no offense.” 

“It was Charlotte’s idea.” Cordelia blurted 

Charlotte pursed her lips, offended at getting thrown under the bus. Cordelia shrugged helplessly in response. “Well, what do _you_ suggest we do, then?” 

Cordelia was at a loss. If anything, she wanted these men _out of her apartment_. Kicking them out suddenly hardly seemed fair, though. There really wasn't that much in way of recreation - books, mags, a radio, some records. They had a TV, but that broke down a while ago and neither of them cared enough to get it fixed. Really, her apartment was very boring. She was about to say as much when, suddenly, she remembered something. “Board games. I think we have a few board games tucked in a closet somewhere.” 

“Better get them out, then.” Whizzer smirked. “It’s dark in there, isn't it Marv?” 

Cordelia cringed slightly, but Marvin just rolled his eyes - long suffering, yet resigned. Cordelia wondered how often Whizzer needled him with that. Charlotte moved to get up and look for the games, but Cordelia placed her hand on her arm and said, “I got this.” She stood up and flicked Whizzer on the head as she walked past him. 

“ _Hey._ ” He rubbed the spot she flicked and twisted around to glare at her. “What was that for?” 

“You’re a dick.” She replied pleasantly, looking back just long enough to flash him a smile before leaving. A few minutes later she returned with a beat up Scrabble box. “This was all I can find.” 

"Ugh, of all the board games out there it had to be the most _boring_ one.” 

Marvin leaned forward, suddenly much more interested in what was going on around him than before. “Hey, Scrabble can be fun.” 

Whizzer scoffed. “You’re not allowed to have an opinion - you think _chess_ is better than sucking dick and you hate _baseball_.” 

Marvin's cheeks turned an impressive shade of red. He opened his mouth, but Charlotte cut him off before he took the bait and started an argument right there on their couch. 

“Scrabble’s fun with booze involved.” 

Cordelia took that as her cue and shoved the box into Whizzer’s unwitting arms. She rushed to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of strawberry flavored vodka and shot glasses. “Who’s ready to get completely shit-faced?” 

\- 

Cordelia and Whizzer were well past the line of tipsy when Whizzer suggested the game of strip Scrabble. 

“C’mon,” He whined, leaning against Marvin. “It’ll be fun.” 

Marvin didn’t seem to mind that Whizzer was practically hanging off of him. Automatically, he snaked his arm around his waist and kept him close. “I don’t see how.” 

Whizzer rolled his eyes and whispered something in his ear. He pulled away with a lecherous grin that matched the hunger that suddenly filled Marvin’s eyes. Whizzer patted Marvin’s cheek condescendingly and easily broke out of his loose grip. Marvin’s eyes followed Whizzer as he moved closer to Cordelia and Charlotte. 

“Alright,” Marvin said, not even bothering to hide his leering. “I’m game.” 

“You two need to get a room.” Cordelia buried her face into Charlotte’s shoulder. 

“All in due time, babe.” Whizzer slid next to her and proceeded to act as obnoxious as possible. “You know, this is probably the greatest idea I’ve ever had.” 

“You’re _drunk._ ” Cordelia laughed, pushing him away. 

“So are _you._ ” Whizzer wrapped his arm around her shoulders and rocked her back and forth. “What’s the worst that can happen?” 

Cordelia forced his arm off of her and pushed him away, more firmly this time. “I see you _naked._ ”

“That’s _hardly_ a bad thing.” Whizzer smirked, giving a significant look towards Marvin, who was staring at them intently. 

“God, fine, okay.” Cordelia groaned and reached to grab the bottle of vodka. “I need to be even more drunk for this.” 

“That’ll be your last shot.” Charlotte warned, playfully stern even though she was a more than a little tipsy as well. 

“Yes, _mom._ ” Cordelia rolled her eyes and took the shot. She handed the bottle to Charlotte and asked, “Are you in, too?”

“I don’t have any objections.” And her smile was mild enough, but Cordelia knew that look in her eyes. She felt like she was stripped naked already. 

Whizzer cheered. “Let’s get this show on the road!” He moved back to his spot next to Marvin, who was more than happy to have him within arm’s reach again. Cordelia wondered if he was normally this possessive, or if he was just a clingy drunk. Whatever the case, Whizzer was soaking up the attention like a sponge. 

_They’re perfect for each other_ , Cordelia thought sardonically. She leaned heavily against Charlotte as she cleared the board and gave a token final argument, “We’re supposed to be adults.” 

Whizzer shrugged. “What’s the point of being an adult if you don’t act like a shitty college kid every once in awhile?” 

“I never had time for any of that crap in college.” Charlotte scoffed. “I was too busy studying my ass off.”

“I never went to college.” It wasn't something Cordelia usually admitted, but the alcohol made her tongue loose. She tried to ignore some of the sympathetic looks she got. “It’s not a big deal.” She insisted, somewhat defensively. 

“I dropped out.” Whizzer said it so casually that Cordelia almost didn't catch it. She waited for him to elaborate, but nothing else came. 

Marvin surprised all of them by saying, “I guess we have to make up for lost time, then.” Much like Whizzer, he didn't say anything further. 

Charlotte finished clearing the board. “Alright,” She said with a wicked smile. “Who’s ready to get destroyed?”

-

To no one’s real surprise, Whizzer and Cordelia lost the most clothing over the course of the game. 

Luckily, it didn’t get to the point where either of them were forced to strip completely - though, Whizzer probably wouldn’t have minded that. By the time they were both stripped to their underwear, the bottle of vodka was empty and everyone was too inebriated to continue on properly. 

At some point in time Whizzer managed to coax Marvin out of his shirt and they were being _gross_ and _handsy_. If Cordelia was sober, she would’ve been surprised at how… _sweet_ they both were. Sure, they were half a step away from fucking each other in the middle of her _living room_ but there was something almost tender between them. Marvin was looking at Whizzer as if he were the fuckin’ _stars in the sky_ and Whizzer was uncharacteristically gentle as he ran his fingers through Marvin’s hair. It was, objectively, a sweet moment.

Cordelia was drunk though. She was drunk and tired and she _really_ didn’t like how Marvin’s hand was drifting closer to the waistband of Whizzer’s underwear. She took a handful of tiles off of the board and threw them. Marvin and Whizzer jerked away from each other as they were hit. 

“What the fuck?” Whizzer blinked slowly at the tiles laying around him. Marvin glared at Cordelia for killing the mood. 

“The game is over.” She grabbed a few more tiles and threw those as well. “Charlotte wins.”

Marvin swatted a few out of the air before they could hit his face. “ _What?_ But I _clearly_ had-”

“She’s wearing the most clothes out of all of us.” Cordelia cut him off. She stood up on wobbly legs and walked over to the two. She grabbed Whizzer’s arm and tugged. “C’mon, get up. Time for both of you to leave and get laid in your own God damned apartment.” 

Whizzer laughed a little too loudly and he let himself get tugged off the floor. Cordelia stumbled and Whizzer steadied her by throwing his arm around her shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re kicking us out. I’m offended. This is homophobic.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Cordelia wondered absently as she pushed him off of her. She nudged Marvin with her foot. “You too. Up and out.” 

Marvin pushed her foot away and searched the ground for his shirt. He tugged it on and buttoned it uneven. Whizzer dragged him to his feet. “What’s the point of buttoning your shirt back up if it’s gonna be taken off in less than a minute anyway?” He started unbuttoning Marvin’s shirt again to prove his point. 

Cordelia groaned and pushed them towards the door. “Just _go_ already.”

“Fine fine alright we’re _going_. Jesus.” Whizzer stuck his tongue at her and stumbled towards the door with Marvin close behind him. “Try not to have _too_ much fun when we leave, ‘Delia.”

“I should be saying the same to you.” She waved them off and walked to the nearest couch. She heard the door close the moment she threw herself face down onto it. 

“They seem like fun.” Charlotte observed from her spot on the floor.

Cordelia flipped herself over. “They’re _exhausting._ ”

Charlotte laughed and pushed herself off of the floor. ‘’Well, I hope you’re not _too_ exhausted.” She crawled onto the couch and kissed her. She pulled away and said, “I thought we were gonna have some _fun_ later.” 

Cordelia hummed. She wrapped her arms around her waist and pulled her even closer. “Yeah? What type of fun?”

Charlotte just smiled and Cordelia felt butterflies erupt in her stomach. She wondered how the hell she got so lucky. 

/-//-/

Cordelia was in the middle of icing cupcakes, when someone knocked on her door. 

“Just come in, Whizzer, I _know_ I gave you a key!” She called, still completely focused on making these cupcakes not look like shit. She was actually really proud of them - the flower designs didn’t look half bad. There was another knock on the door and she accidentally squeezed on too much green icing. Cordelia stared at the cupcake and felt her heart slowly crumble. She dropped the icing tube and took a deep breath. 

Then she stormed to the door, yelling, “Do you _get off_ on being a _complete ass_? I swear to _God_ , Whizzer, I’ll--” She wrenched open the door and- whoops. That wasn’t Whizzer at the door. 

Marvin was frozen, staring at her wide eyed and vaguely terrified. 

Cordelia stared right back, taking her time to process this turn of events. She couldn’t remember the last time Marvin knocked on her door. She wasn't even sure if it’s ever happened before. “Uh…” She shook the surprise off. “What d’you want, Marv?”

Marvin quickly regained his composure. “I wanted to talk.”

Cordelia motioned for him to come inside. “Want some wine? Beer?”

Marvin considered it briefly, before shaking his head. “No. No, I’m fine.” 

“Tea?” Cordelia walked back to the kitchen. Marvin didn't answer, so she went ahead and pulled out the kettle. She dug around the drawers for Charlotte's teabags. She’ll probably get cut off for stealing her tea… _again_ , but Cordelia didn’t really care. She was good at making Charlotte forget about that kind of stuff. Cordelia smiled as she pulled out a packet of earl grey. Besides, Charlotte needs to hide her tea better. 

She turned around and noticed Marvin staring at the half finished cupcakes. “You want one?”

“Uh, no.” He shook his head and sat at the table, making himself right at home. Cordelia felt a twinge of irritation. She grabbed the ruined cupcake and placed it in front of him. 

“I insist. You're the reason why I can't use this one anyway.” She went back to icing cupcakes as she waited for the water to boil. 

“What are these for?” 

“Birthday. Seven year old girl named Suzy. Isn't that cute?” She iced a half-assed rose. “Her mom said she liked flowers.” 

“I thought you’d be doing something more… _sophisticated_ than children’s birthdays.” 

_What the hell was that supposed to mean?_ “I take what I can get.” She said evenly. “I gave Whizzer some of my business cards to display at his studio and I've been getting birthdays ever since.” She gave up in icing and she turned her attention to the screaming kettle. “Kids don't care about the quality of the food, so long as it's filled with sugar.” 

“Then why go through the trouble of icing it so intricately?”

“The _moms_ notice that.” Cordelia poured the tea and sat at the table across from Marvin. She pushed a cup towards him and he had the sense to accept it. “I don't mind. It can be frustrating, but it's also relaxing. I like baking, it's the only kind of cooking I can consider myself decent at.” 

Marvin hummed and drank his tea. He grimaced and said, “Too strong.” 

“Too bad.” She looked him right in the eyes as she drank her own cup. “What do you want, Marvin? Obviously you wanted to talk about something other than my mediocre kitchen skills.” 

Marvin set down his tea and cleared his throat. Cordelia was already rolling her eyes. He stated, “You're around Whizzer a lot.” 

“He's around _me_ a lot.” She corrected. She took the cupcake that Marvin didn't touch and started picking at it herself. She was surprised to find that it actually tasted kind of good. 

“Yes.” Marvin agreed. “I hope you can see why this is a problem.” 

Cordelia tilted her head and tried to process what he was trying to say. When it clicked, she couldn't help but laugh. Unrestrained, loud laughter that startled Marvin out of his reserve. “Are you really so insecure that you think I'm stealing _Whizzer_ away from you?” She kept laughing as Marvin’s face turned red. 

“This isn't _funny_ -” 

“No, it really is.” Cordelia cut him off, grinning wider when he turned a brighter shade of red. “I'm a _dyke_ , Marvin, and, last time I checked, Whizzer’s as big of a twink as they come.” She shook her head and added, “Whizzer’s allowed to have _friends_ , Marvin.” 

Marvin scoffed. “Whizzer doesn't _have_ friends. He just has people he screws.” 

Cordelia narrowed her eyes. Is that really all he thought about him? “Look, beyond our incompatible preferences, I’m _taken_. _Happily_ taken at that. I'm not going to ruin that with an affair - I'm not _you._ ” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. 

Marvin stood up so fast that the chair clattered to the floor. He slammed his hands on the table. “Don't you _dare._ You have _no idea_ what you're talking about.” 

Cordelia didn't give him the pleasure of flinching. “You don't improve things yelling.” She glanced down at his hand. “Still wearing your wedding ring, aren't you?” 

He quickly drew his hand back. Still seething, he said, “I _hoped_ we can talk about this like _adults._ ” 

“Then pick up that chair and _act_ like one, Marvin.” Cordelia's glare was as cold as steel, but Marvin’s was absolutely molten. It never occurred to Cordelia that she should’ve been scared. That it would’ve been smarter for her to back off. She held his glare and refused to let it melt her. The tension built and built until it was almost unbearable. Then, Marvin sagged; the fight leaked out of his body and all that was left was a tired man who was barely able to keep his bones from collapsing beneath him. 

It was hard for Cordelia to say if she felt sympathy for him or not. 

He quietly pulled the chair back up and sat down, burying his head in his hands. “I don’t want to fight.” He said, after a long period of uncomfortable silence. He lifted up his head and restlessly combed his fingers through his hair. “I just want you to _listen._ ” 

Cordelia shook her head. She didn’t care how pitiful the man in front of her looked, she wasn't going to give his unspoken request the time of day. “ _No_ , Marvin, I _won’t_ listen. You can’t…” She struggled to gather her words together. To string them in a way that wouldn’t make him blow up again. “You can’t just _control_ Whizzer’s life like that. It’s not healthy.” _For you_ or _him._

Marvin just stared at the table sullenly, so Cordelia tried again. She smoothed over her voice, until it was almost uncharacteristically gentle. “Marv… Whizzer has a life outside of you. I know about what happened with you and your wife.” She paused briefly when he flinched. Then she continued, “You're probably _scared-_ ” 

“You're not my psychiatrist.” Marvin snapped. His voice was strained and his glare was deadly. “I don't need another _self righteous asshole_ prying into my personal life.” 

Cordelia sat back and let all pretenses of caring drained out of her. She was tired. She was done with this. “You know what? You're right. I'm _not_ your psychiatrist. I'm not your _friend,_ either. You're an asshole and if you keep this up no one’s going to want to stick with you for very long.” 

Marvin stood up. His hands were clenched tightly at his side, shaking minutely from barely controlled rage. “We’re done here.” 

“We’ve been done from the moment we started this conversation.” Cordelia stood up to meet his eyes. “I don't even know how he puts up with you.” 

Marvin laughed, quiet and bitter. “All he cares about is sex and money.” His mouth twisted oddly when he added, “ And I'm fine with that. He's nothing but a pretty face, anyway.” 

“Just leave, Marvin.” Cordelia said, leaving no room for him to say anything else. “And don't try to talk to me about this again.” 

Marvin hovered briefly, obviously wanting to say the last word. Then, he thought better of it and nodded curtly before walking out of her apartment. Cordelia felt herself relax when she heard the door close. 

She looked wearily at the cupcakes still waiting to be iced. The bright and happy flowers made her feel sick.

/-//-/

This wasn’t the first time she's overheard them arguing. Lord knows that Charlotte and her have had to sit through many screaming matches. These were different, though. Cordelia couldn't tell anyone how they were different, but she just _knew_. 

Their arguments have always been loud, but these were relatively quiet. Not so quiet that she couldn't hear them through the paper thin walls of her apartment, but the theatrics were gone. The bombastic, almost flamboyant, yelling was replaced with strained and harsh jeers. 

They've always picked at each other. They've always hit low and aimed for chinks in their respective armors. But she was starting to hear doors slam more and more. That was new and she didn't know if she liked it or not. 

She didn't like Marvin. She still wasn’t sure how much she likes Whizzer. But she knew that they, at the very least, liked _each other_. Cordelia was a romantic. She loved love. She wanted to believe in the power of it. 

She wanted to believe that this would blow over. 

She knew that Marvin was an asshole. Marvin was insecure and controlling. But Whizzer was just as much of an asshole as Marvin. He was charming, but manipulative. They clashed and they fought, but in the end they were a perfect fit. 

Cordelia didn't want to see something like that fall apart, because both of them refused to talk about their feelings. They _like_ each other, she's gathered that much. Whether or not it was _love_ , was another story. She wanted to believe that they had the _potential_ for love. 

She knew that they were running out of time to reach that. 

But, really, _what_ did she know? She was just their neighbor. As much as she liked to think otherwise, she didn't _know_ them. Not really. Neither of them ever lowered their walls enough for her to see more than what they wanted her to see. 

They were both scared. Cordelia just didn't understand what they were scared _of_. If she did, she might've been able to do something more. As it was, all she can do is watch and hope. 

As she continued stirring, the argument next door reached its peak. She flinched as she heard a door slam. 

She hoped. She really did hope that this would blow over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to tell me what you think! I love getting feedback!


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